Calling DierksBentley a mere singer-songwriter is a little like describing the Grand Canyonas having “a nice view.” The Phoenix native may not have the scope and grandeurof America’s favorite natural monument, but there often is more going on in oneof his songs than other artists have buried in their entire albums, and youdon’t have to get smacked in the face to appreciate it.

Credit at least in part Nashville’s superb production standards and wide arrayof studio talent to draw on. It’s all easier when you have the best at yourfingertips as evidenced in Bentley’s 2016 album, Black. But the singer’s largely languid sound supports subtlelyrics that speak to affairs of the heart with a certain amount of comfort andfamiliarity. The messages are clear, but operate more as a memory of lovesfound and lost, the way we might think of them when we’re the subject of ourown songs.

But then, that’s what Bentley strives for, and he succeeds more often than not.Singer-songwriters come and go, especially in Nashville, where there are moreartists per capita than just about any other U.S. city. Dierks Bentley mayprove to be the exception to the rule, and his fans are thankful for that.(Michael Muckian)

Huey Lewis & The NewsBMO Harris Pavilion9:45 p.m.

LikeFleetwood Mac’s Rumours the decadebefore, the impact of Huey Lewis and The News’ landmark 1983 album, Sports, reverberated for yearsthroughout pop culture. A testament to the ubiquity of those albums is theprevalence of both records in used vinyl bins, where a new generation continuesto discover them once again. While the album contains some forgettable productionmoments, Sports stands up today as aneverlasting ’80s pop record.

While manysimilar musicians of that era have been left in the dust, Huey Lewis and TheNews retains an iconic status. Their legacy has been especially helped by filmsin the ’80s. Lewis makes a cameo in one of the decade’s biggest blockbusters, Back to the Future, which also featuresthe band’s No. 1 hit, “The Power of Love.” The other highest grossing actionfilm at the time, Ghostbusters,features a Ray Parker Jr. song that suspiciously resembled Sports single “I Want a New Drug”—Lewis sued and the two settledout of court in the ’90s.

Butperhaps the biggest effect on the band from cinema comes from 2000’s American Psycho, when the infamouscharacter Patrick Bateman praises the commercial and creative output of theband’s successful mid-’80s run to a houseguest before brutally murdering him.If one of the most memorable cinematic psychopaths loves a band, how can theypossibly be lame? (Kevin Mueller)

AtmosphereHarley-Davidson Roadhouse10 p.m.

Emergingfrom Minneapolis well before that city had any reputation for its rap scene, thehip-hop outfit Atmosphere celebrated its 20th year together last year. That’san amazing feat for any rap act, especially one that has consistently tackledsubject matter so emotionally demanding. On the group’s most celebratedreleases, frontman Slug poured out his heart and his soul, cursing out his exesand confiding his addictions. At the time there was nothing like it, and hebecame the poster child for a certain strain of tortured, hyper-emotional,independent rap. He was to hip-hop as Morrissey was to rock: a self-effacing, black-humoredicon who never let himself get too caught up in his own cult of personality.

These days, however, Slug’s outlook on life is considerably brighter. On recentalbums like 2014’s funk-minded Southsidersand last year’s mellow, surprisingly good-natured Fishing Blues, Slug has traded his usual autobiographical laments forvivid storytelling, and even when he does get personal, he does so with anoptimism that would have been unthinkable on an Atmosphere release 15 yearsago. On tracks like “Won’t Look Back” and “Anybody That I’ve Known,” hereflects on the rocky life that he’d led and concludes that he wouldn’t changea thing. (Evan Rytlewski)